


The Road to the Stars

by ChocolateChipMaster



Series: Voltron Confrontations [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Backstory, But He Gets Better, Gen, I promise, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, James is a complete asshole, James visits Keith and G O D is it awkward, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Platonic Relationships, Post-Season/Series 07, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), The confrontation s7 needed but never gave us, This isn't romantic, hospital visits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 07:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateChipMaster/pseuds/ChocolateChipMaster
Summary: Keith was ten years old when he first met James Griffin. James was - for lack of a better word - an ass-kisser. He turned in every assignment, passed every test, got perfect grades.Keith wasn’t like that. He didn’t want to be that.So there was no wonder that personalities as vastly different at the two of them would eventually clash.





	The Road to the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this entire fic was a random fucking thing that just popped into my head on my way home. I felt like we never resolved any of the tension between Keith and James (it was so obviously there, it h u r t) and so I barfed this out in a few hours, not counting editing time. 
> 
> And I know how unrealistic it is that Keith and James were in the same school their entire lives shhh just roll with it 
> 
> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Keith was ten years old when he first met James Griffin.

It was during a particularly hard time in his life, just after his dad had passed and Keith was tossed head-first into his first foster family who cared more about the monthly government paycheck then they did him. The teacher of his class had been praising James and had said something that had caught Keith’s attention.

_“All of you should strive to be more like James.”_

Keith couldn’t stop himself from snorting. If by ‘be more like James’ she meant ‘literally bow to my every whim', he’d take a hard pass. James was - for lack of a better word - an ass-kisser. He turned in every assignment, passed every test, got perfect grades.

Keith wasn’t like that. He didn’t _want_ to be that.

So there was no wonder that personalities as vastly different as the two of them would clash.

The teacher - a woman with a surname too complicated to pronounce - raised her eyebrow at Keith.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Keith?” She asked. Her voice was nasally, stringy brown hair done up into a tight bun. She wore glasses that looked three sizes too small for her face and a sweater that looked like it was found in a dumpster. Keith shook his head silently, shoulders tensing as the attention of the class turned to him. The teacher pushed her glasses farther up her nose, gave a glowing smile to James, and told Keith to see her after class.

Keith did not miss the glare that James shot him as he returned to his seat.

 

“Your attitude is unacceptable. You need to become better.”

Keith was silent. He stood at the teacher's desk with his backpack, trying not to think of the current time. Trying not to think of how late he would be getting home, and how angry his foster father would be. He kept his attention to his shoes, trying to appear ashamed, but he probably came off as uncaring.

The teacher actually _sneered_ up at him. “Your grades do not reflect your work ethic. You may be passing, but do not expect your attitude to fly in my classroom. Is that understood?”

Keith mumbled a half-assed response.

“Mr. _Kogane,”_ her voice was so god _damn_ patronizing. It was taking all of Keith’s willpower to stand there and listen to her. He could be on his way to the cemetery right now. He’d had plans to visit his dad’s grave before he got home. Apparently, it was not to be. “I need _vocal_ affirmation.”

“ _Yes,”_ Keith said exasperatedly.

The teacher sniffed, apparently somewhat satisfied with his response. “Things have been going downhill for two months now, Keith. Frankly, I’m worried that your attitude will get worse, not better. It could prove to be... _problematic_ for your future.”

Keith gritted his teeth. Of course things were 'problematic for his future'. His dad was _dead._ The one light in his life, the one anchor that was always there to ground him was _gone._

Keith was _hurting_.

Not that he expected her to understand that.

After a few carefully-worded 'encouragements' to improve his behavior, Keith was dismissed. He was running through his list of excuses as he clicked the door to the classroom shut, thinking of something that might appease his foster father. He’d used the library excuse already, he couldn’t do it again. Tutoring would only make him think that Keith was failing.

_What about-_

Keith’s next thoughts flew out the metaphorical window as someone shoved his shoulder. _Hard._ It was by pure luck that Keith managed to stay on his feet as he flailed wildly, trying to regain his lost balance. He turned around, rage simmering in his veins.

James Griffin was leaning outside of the classroom door.

Keith’s lip curled. He knew James was here for a fight - one that Keith did _not_ have the time to participate in.

Keith made _sure_ James saw him roll his eyes and continued down the hallway.

“Hey,” James snapped. “Hey, I’m trying to _talk_ to you.”

Keith ignored him.

Rapid footsteps approaching on his right indicated James was giving pursuit. Keith sped up his pace.

“Hey!” James almost shouted, breaking the ‘inside voice’ rule that the entire faculty was so adamant about. Keith continued to ignore him, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. He was already late. Fraternizing with James would only make that _worse._

A surprisingly cold hand on his wrist made Keith jolt. James spun him around, grabbing Keith by his shoulders. James was taller than him by an inch.

“ _What?”_ Keith all but spat.

“What is your _problem?”_ James shot back.

“You’re the one trying to talk to me!” Keith tried to wriggle out of James’ hold - the same way his dad had taught him - but the other boy’s grip held fast.

“Not now, I meant in _class,”_ James glared. “What, do you hate me or something?”

Keith bared his teeth, resisting the urge to just straight up _bite_ James to get him off.

“Let me go!” He said instead.

“Are you _jealous_ of me or something?”

Something inside of Keith snapped. He sank his teeth into James’ hand which was uncomfortably close to his face. James let out an alarmed howl and released Keith immediately. He held his hand (tiny teeth-shaped marks embedded in the skin, pinpricks of red dotting the surface) to his chest and let out a loud childish cry as Keith turned on his heel and headed out the door.

He knew he was going to get punished for it. He just couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

Keith was twelve the first time he _almost_ punched James.

After their encounter in elementary school, James had made it his _personal_ mission to harass Keith at every given opportunity. And since James was the  _golden_ child and Keith the _problematic_ one, Keith was always blamed for the ensuing argument that almost always got violent.

_Almost._

Keith had been in his fair share of fights since his dad died. Most of them he hadn’t even caused. They were just kids picking on him due to his unfortunate status; the orphan. The out-of-place kid whose foster siblings made fun of him at school, so that made it okay for everyone else to do it too.

James, in particular, liked to torment Keith. He called him ‘emo kid’ and pushed him around in the hallways, but not once did Keith strike back. He knew that he’d be expelled in a heartbeat for ever causing the school’s golden child any sort of harm.

So he kept his hands to himself. Even when James ‘accidentally’ knocked him into a locker and laughed as Keith picked himself up the ground. Keith just gritted his teeth and endured it because it was what his dad would have wanted. To stay strong, even in the face of adversity, because fighting back meant he was stooping down to _their_ level.

“Fight back only when you absolutely _have_ to,” his dad would have said.

But _god_ , if James wasn’t making it tempting to break his nose in front of his entire little posse.

It all started when James made a jab at Keith's unfortunate _situation_.

Keith was idly organizing his locker before his next class. He made sure all the spines of his textbooks were facing outwards, all of his papers looked at least _somewhat_ neat, when he heard the telltale sound of James sniggering somewhere to his left.

Keith bit down hard on his lip. He didn’t have to look to know who James was laughing at. It was always him, after all.

James’ locker was a few down from Keith’s. It was constantly surrounded by James’ many friends, all loud, obnoxious, and absolutely _infuriating._

“Do you think the people who take him in even like him?” James said loudly. Too loudly. He _wanted_ Keith to hear him. “He just starts fights after all. They probably are just in for the _pity paycheck_ they give every month to take care of him.”

Keith’s finger twitched. _I don’t start fights,_ he thought angrily. _I just finish them._

One of James’ friends chimed in. “I don’t blame them. After all, who wants a kid whose own _parents_ didn’t even want him?”

James hummed in agreement.

Keith’s blood was now pounding in his ears. His grip on his locker door was so tight, he might as well have been bending the metal. James was continuing to talk, but Keith was too busy listening to his own pounding heartbeat to hear.

His parents - or at least his father - had loved him. _That_ much Keith was sure about.

How fucking _dare_ they poke fun at his family?

Keith slammed his locker door shut. Blood pounded in his ears, something feral and unfamiliar now blooming inside of his gut. He hadn’t felt like this before. Not even in past fights with other schoolmates.

Something about this was _personal._

Keith shoved aside James’ friends to get a direct look at the boy who started it all. He grabbed James by the shirt collar and slammed him roughly into the metal with a loud thud. James’ eyes widened as he met Keith’s, pupils dilated and - dare he say it - with a tinge of _yellow_ in them.

No words were exchanged. Keith’s fist reared back, anticipating that satisfying _crack_ as James’ nose would snap in two-

The bell rang.

It was a loud chiming noise that jarred Keith out of his rage-induced reverie. Almost instantly, he dropped James, shame flooding his cheeks a dull red. He’d almost landed the first blow. _Started_ the fight.

His dad would be _so_ disappointed in him.

James smirked, despite still looking a bit alarmed. “I knew you wouldn’t have it in you.”

Keith just spat at him.

“Look who showed up.”

James stood in front of Keith’s desk, his hand planted firmly on the smooth wood. Keith turned an icy glare to the other boy, his hands curling into fists on his desk.

“You’re actually _here,”_ James almost sounded impressed. “After you stole Mr. Shirogane’s car yesterday, we were all taking bets on how badly he would punish you.”

Keith glared in response. James leaned in a bit closer, breaching Keith’s personal space and getting right up into his face.

“So?” He said, smirking. “What happened? What do you have to do? A billion hours of community service? Staying away from Garrison property for the rest of your life? _What is it?”_

“He didn’t punish me,” Keith said coolly. He leaned away from James, still wearing an expression of absolute distaste. James backed away, having the decency to actually look a little bit surprised.

“He didn’t?” He said. “Well, what did he do if he didn’t punish you?”

“None of your business.”

Keith turned his head away to stare out the window. If he were to tell James that Takashi Shirogane had actually _asked_ Keith to meet him outside of school hours, he was sure James would find a way to twist it. To take the one chance at freedom Keith had been given for the first time in years.

He couldn’t let that happen.

“Oh bull _shit,”_ James said. “You don’t just steal a Garrison graduate’s _car_ and waltz away scot-free.”

“Well maybe I _did.”_ Keith said.

“Yeah, sure,” James said. “You just don’t want to say what Mr. Shirogane's making you do.”

Keith did not reply. James took that as an affirmation. He laughed, shoving Keith almost into the window beside his desk. Keith grabbed either side of his chair to steady himself, shooting James a heated glare.

“Fuck _off.”_

“Whatever,” James scoffed. “By the time we get promoted into high school, I’ll be taking the Garrison Entry Exams. I’ll be becoming a fighter pilot while Kogane here stays at rock bottom for the rest of his life.”

Keith tried not to let the words sting.

His whole life, all he had wanted to do was to embrace the stars his father had been so enamored with. To see why Pop had always gotten misty-eyed and looked up at the sky when Keith asked about his mother. To understand why Keith was so _drawn_ to the stars and the universes beyond them.

Keith gritted his teeth. He’d prove James wrong. He’d prove _everyone_ wrong. He had talent on the Garrison simulator. He could make it out there, and Shirogane was willing to do that for him.

All he had to do was take the first step.

 

Keith got his entrance exam test results back a month into summer vacation. He opened the results with Shiro, who beamed when the letter congratulated him as a cadet of the Galaxy Garrison.

How Keith relished in the look that spread across James’ face when he saw Keith at freshman orientation.

 

Keith was lucky when he finally snapped, he was at the Garrison.

In the same sense, though, he was _extremely_ unlucky that it happened at the Garrison. He had Shiro to vouch for him, to keep him in the program, but he knew that if he ever messed up like that again, he’d be booted from the academy with no questions asked.

But _god damn_ if there wasn’t something satisfying about beating James Griffin’s face in after the years of torment.

Besides, James had made a pass at his parents. His father, specifically. Keith would not let that fly.

So, when Shiro sat in the apartment he shared with Keith, reprimanding him in a quiet murmur while Adam applied antiseptics to the bruises on Keith’s knuckles, Keith tuned most of Shiro’s speech out. It didn’t matter to him. Keith didn’t regret what he’d done.

And it was evident by the smile that quirked up Shiro’s lips a little bit that he knew that too.

 

“Keith, what is this test score?”

Shiro stood with his arms folded, looking down at Keith. Adam stood next to him, his hands on his hips and his glasses tilted down on his nose. In the moment, Keith thought that the two of them looked remarkably like a pair of disapproving parents.

Keith looked down at the paper that Shiro had put down in front of him. A red 'thirty' was written and circled up in the top corner, next to his name. Keith winced. It was a simple astrophysics test he thought he didn’t need to study for.

Evidently, though, he had to.

“Keith, this kind of stuff won’t keep you in the fighter pilot program,” Shiro said. “This is the stuff that’ll get you kicked _out._ Being a good pilot alone won’t see you through to graduation.”

“Shiro would know,” Adam added.

Shiro shot Adam a dirty look. The affection held in it, however, was hardly thinly veiled.

Keith lifted up one of the sheets and folded it over the staple, looking down at his answers. Half of them he was sure he had gotten right. The other half he’d circled ‘c’ and hoped for the best.

Keith glanced up at Adam and Shiro once again. He knew that a simple ‘I’m sorry, I’ll try better next time’ wouldn’t suffice with the two of them. Shiro needed confirmation that Keith was actually _going_ to make an effort to improve the grade, while Adam probably needed a step-by-step plan and a fully fleshed-out diagram to show exactly _how_ he was going to do better.

“I didn’t study,” Keith said, deciding to tell the truth.

“You didn’t-” Adam cut himself off with an exasperated sigh. He put his forehead in the crook of his thumb, shaking his head ruefully. “You didn’t _study.”_

“I didn’t think I needed to.”

Adam looked scandalized and turned to Shiro. “He didn’t think he _needed_ to! Takashi, how are you letting this _fly_ in your household?! I  _showed_ you the test before I gave it out! I even told you that Keith  _needed_ to study to pass it!" 

“I know, and I _don’t_ let this fly!” Shiro said. “Keith, I _told_ you to study! Night before, I told you that Adam always makes his tests a little harder than what he teaches in class, so hit the books before you go to bed!”

Keith scowled. “First of all, who even says ‘hit the books’ anymore? Second, I didn’t think Adam would go that hard on me!”

Shiro groaned, sliding a hand down his face. “Just because I’m Adam’s boyfriend and you live with me does not mean Adam will make an exception just for you.”

Keith made a face.

“Look, Keith,” Shiro said. “You got the _lowest score_ in the class. You know who got the best?”

“No…?”

“ _James Griffin.”_

Keith’s blood ran cold. He gritted his teeth, turning to Adam with the most serious look he could muster.

“When're remedial lessons?”

The smug look on Shiro’s face was echoed by Adam’s exasperated sigh.

 

Keith’s next encounter with James happened just outside the Garrison dorm rooms.

Keith was on his way back to Shiro's apartment from borrowing notes from a classmate when he practically ran into James, cuffing him with his shoulder. Both boys looked at each other in surprise and then distaste when they recognized each other.

“If it isn’t the ‘child prodigy’ who has Professor Shirogane under his thumb,” James snarled. Keith bit back an awesome retort in favor of keeping his mouth shut. He could not afford to get into another fight with James.

Instead, he skirted around James and kept walking down the hallway, holding his notebook to his chest.

_Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away,_ Keith thought.

Clearly, it was not to be. James grabbed Keith by the wrist and spun him around. It was oddly reminiscent of that day in the elementary school hallway so many years ago.

“Look,” James hissed. “Just because you think you’re hot stuff just because you can fly a fighter jet, doesn’t mean that you’re going to be anymore more than what you _are._ A troublemaking _kid_ who hasn’t done anything good his entire life.”

Keith, all too familiar with those words, peeled James’ hands off of him. Years of being trapped in the foster system had brought him up with similar insults being lobbed at him in hopes it would break him.

They never did.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” Keith said coldly.

As he walked away, though, Keith sorely wished he had the courage to punch James in the face again.

 

Years later, Keith wished he hadn’t seen the look on James’ face when he found out Keith had been booted from the Garrison.

It was triumphant. Gleeful, almost. It was adding insult to the injury of Shiro’s disappearance at Kerberos.

Keith left the Garrison with pain in his heart and fury boiling in his veins.

 

Keith had always hated hospitals.

They were too sterile, too quiet. The waiting room, in particular, was agony. Keith remembered bouncing his leg, waiting for hours and _hours_ while his father fought for his life and ultimately lost.

It was odd, however, to be the one receiving treatment in the hospital.

Having been salvaged from the crater the Black Lion had made in the desert, Keith was in terrible shape. He didn’t remember much from the explosion, just that he had smashed his head forwards from the force of it and everything had gone dark. He’d woken up with Krolia and Kolivan at his bedside.

After that, he’d nearly gone stir-crazy from being on forced bedrest. Shiro had come and gone, looking more and more exhausted with each visit. Keith would encourage him to rest, Shiro would decline, and that would be that. Other than his mother and Shiro, Keith hadn’t had many visitors. He spent much of the day sleeping off the concussion and letting nurses change dirty, blood-stained bandages.

So, when James Griffin walked through the door of his hospital room, Keith was a little more than surprised.

To say tensions were high between the two former Garrison cadets would be an understatement. James _had_ offered to help Hunk and Keith find Hunk’s family, but that wasn’t enough to mend the broken relationship from all those years ago. And even then, throughout all the missions they’d gone on since then to help retake Earth, Keith and James had kept a considerable amount of distance. They’d tried to one-up each other in everything, from Keith showing off Kosmo’s teleportation abilities to James bragging about how much more he knew about the Galran’s new tactics. So, having James walk through the door into Keith’s hospital room was a little bit more than surprising.

James gave Keith a small awkward smile. “I...thought I’d swing by. See how you were doing.”

“Uh...fine, I guess.” Keith raised an eyebrow. James glanced all around Keith’s face and injuries, gaze lingering on his scar for a fraction longer than anything else.

The silence that stretched between them was _painfully_ awkward. 

It wasn’t a silence that Keith had a hundred words to use to fill it and no way to say them. It was a silence where neither of them knew what to say. They had nothing to tell each other. No ‘hey, good job out there’s and ‘I’m glad you didn’t die’s. There was nothing but hostility between them for years. Just a few weeks of fighting tirelessly together wouldn’t change that.

“So...uh...Voltron, huh?” James said, clearly scrambling for a subject.

“Oh, uh…” Keith picked at the raised skin around his scar. “Yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“Nice...I guess,” Keith said. “It is a bit...weird. To have a giant futuristic cat in the back of your head all the time.” As if summoned, Black’s presence - weak but very much still there - stirred in the back of Keith’s mind.

“So...they’re sentient?” James asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Keith paused at that. The Lions certainly _were_ sentient. They had enough sense to pick and choose their Paladins (and in Red’s case, be very _picky_ about their Paladin) and come whenever called. They could communicate, not in words but in pictures, and had a bond with their Paladin that couldn’t be broken by brute force alone. They were, however, still machines. Futuristic machines who only had a will because of the trans-reality comet they were made from.

Keith made a face. “To an extent.”

James nodded, a quiet hum escaping his throat. A few more moments of silence ticked between them.

“Your team seems to really trust you,” James said at last.

“Yeah. Yours too.” Keith said.

“We’ve been through a lot together,” James said. “This Galra invasion has been hell.”

“I can tell.”

James groaned. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Keith wanted to say that James didn’t even know the half of the whole _war_ Earth had been unwittingly thrown into, but he held his tongue.

James turned to Keith with a careful smile. “I bet you guys have been through your fair share, too. That scar like the one on your face doesn’t just come from nothing.”

Keith remembered, then, in a few flashes of memories the purple tint in Shiro’s eyes, the hot metal of his arm melting the flesh off Keith’s face, the terror of the realization that his brother might actually _kill_ him. He nodded.

“Long story.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if I’ve got the time to hear it,” James said. "Thing's are pretty busy out there with the reconstruction and whatnot. I gotta get back to it soon."

Another beat of silence.

Keith hesitated. He wanted to apologize for the way he’d treated James in the past. The two of them might be on teammate terms now, but that did not erase the sins of the past on either of their parts.

Keith spoke up. “Hey I-”

At the same time James said, “listen, I-”

The two of them blinked at each other in clear surprise. Keith smiled tentatively. “You first.”

“I…” James looked away, an embarrassed flush turning his ears red. “I just...I wanted to apologize. For how I was. Before.”

Keith let his mouth fall open a little bit in shock. Was James _seriously_ apologizing for what had happened when they were kids? Wasn’t Keith _just_ about to do that?

He was so bewildered, all he could manage was a strangled, “what?”

James scratched the back of his head. “I was a dick. Like...a total asshole. You didn’t deserve that. Just...something about you back then got on my nerves. You drove me up the fucking _walls,_ dude.”

Keith finally managed to make his jaw do something _other_ than fall open out of surprise. “Yeah, I did that a lot as a kid.”

James snorted. “Tell me about it.” He fell silent, looking genuinely ashamed. “But...I still shouldn’t have like...bullied you because of it. So...I’m sorry.”

Keith gave James a tentative smile. “I’m sorry, too.”

James’ head shot up. “For what?”

“For punching you in the face?” Keith raised an eyebrow. “I almost broke your _nose.”_

“Yeah, but I made a pass at your parents.”

“I was a dick.”

“So was I!”

Feeling much more relaxed, Keith leaned against the headboard of his hospital bed. Something about addressing the elephant in the room had made the tension between the two of them dissipate. It was still there, of course, but not as prominent as before.

“I still should be sorrier,” James said. His arms were folded across his chest, looking down at his boots. “I was like...the biggest dick. The biggest dickus.”

Keith snorted. “Dude.”

“Sorry,” James cracked a small smile. “Still, doesn’t change the fact that I was mean to you for virtually no reason.”

“And I was mean in return,” Keith said. “So we can both take the blame for what happened, okay? We were both at fault.”

James snorted and shook his head, looking at Keith with a lopsided grin. “Fine.”

Keith straightened up and held his good arm out towards James. “Truce?”

James considered the extended hand for a moment before reaching out and grasping it firmly in return. “Truce.”

Keith smiled. Something about clearing the air between them had made it so much easier to breathe. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. His history with James wasn’t lingering in the back of his head anymore. It was gone, put in the past along with everything else. There was no point in holding onto old grudges anymore.

James pulled his hand away and gave Keith a smirk. “Don’t think that just because you and your team are in the hospital means your getting a pass on training,” he said. “As soon as you all get discharged, my team’s gonna kick your team’s ass.”

Keith smirked. The jibe was good-natured. A challenge that came with good, friendly intentions. He couldn’t help but play along.

“Bring it on.”

**Author's Note:**

> SWEET CHILDREN 
> 
> I was actually super disappointed that season 7 didn't address the obvious tension between Keith and James more. Maybe they'll do it in season 8, but they didn't address the aftermath of Keith's suicide attempt, Lance's actual death (maybe), and then Lance being ready to die earlier in season 7. I plan to write something out for all of those, even the aftermath of the Keith v. Shiro fight. 
> 
> I've got a lot of plans :p
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment/kudos if you did, I'd love to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Want to stay updated on future Voltron fics? You can find my Tumblr [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/)! Hope to see you there! <3


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